Magictale
by hmong7777
Summary: The human race has been separated into two categories after a violent and hellish civil war. There were the red blood humans who were normal and there were the blue blooded humans who bore the power of magic. However, magic isn't appreciated as a natural aspect of the world. Henceforth, they were forced off the Earth and forced underground to live their days in solitude.
1. Magictale: Chapter 0: The Prologue

The first anomaly appeared nearly over 200 years ago. The sun was shining brightly with the July summer heat beating down on the Earth. Everything had appeared to be normal on that day, but then something extraordinary happened. A single man had somehow caused a fire that quickly overtook a city. Buildings burned to the ground, metal melted into steaming heaps of liquid that burned into the concrete and dirt. The trees caught fire and left nothing but ashes as their remains. Luckily, there were no casualties. Everyone had managed to escape this physical hell. Everyone except for one man. When paramedics and firefighters went into the town to see if there were any stragglers that were left behind, they found only one person. A person who was completely unharmed, untouched, by the flames that ravaged the city. When they took him away from the environment, he was quickly medical scan to see if there was anything wrong. He may look fine on the outside, but they feared his lungs perished from the smoke. When thoroughly examined multiple times by multiple medical professionals, they found nothing wrong. His lungs were in a peak of healthy condition. However, there was something unnatural about this young man. They found small traces of an unknown liquid substance lurking within his veins, the biggest source located at his heart.

As the years passed, more and more of these strange substances appeared in more people. After the rebuilding of the town, many things felt off. People continued to venture into clinics, claiming that their body felt odd. They said that there wasn't any pain, but more-so uneasiness. It felt as though something were changing, rearranging, inside their bodies. Doctors would take blood samples from these patients and discover that the blue liquid found years beforehand was now appearing once again. There were rising concerns that another fire would occur considering the only person who had been found unharmed had the same strange liquid in their blood. Soon enough, a fourth of the city's population had this strange liquid. Quickly, it spread to half the population. Within the next few years, the city, as well as other cities, degraded their city into different sectors. Sectors 1 and 2 were made for the "normal" red-blooded citizens. This took up three-fourths of the city land mass. Sectors 3 and 4 was reserved for the "unknown" blue-blooded citizens. With little space available, people began to fight for territory. Diseases spread and took many lives while the scarce rations starved people from the lack of food. Many of these people began to riot in the streets.

They held petitions for tearing down the sectors of the city. They protested about their poor living conditions and the lack of available resources. They eventually grew weary and hopeless. Their motivation and determination died from petition after petition being denied. A large majority of protestors were forced into custody. Within months of starting to defy, they obliged and dealt with their living conditions as best as they could. They felt defeated. In all reality, the normal citizens were just afraid of what was to come from these kinds of anomalies. They had no idea of how to deal with this situation and resorted to simply shredding all ties and forced them in the poorest parts of the city.

After several years pass, many people had grown to realize that their blue blood was special. Special in the fact that they had abilities that the other citizens didn't have. They had found this out after one child began to levitate small debris around her in a man-made park. When she was questioned, she said, "I felt a little woozy at first and concentrated on the rocks to try and take my mind off of it. Then they just started floating."

People found this rather interesting. Soon enough, when they felt woozy or dazed, they began to relax and concentrate on something else. One person accidently caught a tree on fire. Another had froze an entire lake. Everyone in the small city began to explore and discover what they called "magic". With their newfound powers, they regained the will to fight for their freedom. However, they were too late. The government had constructed a wall made of steel all across their sectors. The wall reached as high as the clouds and those who had found their power to be flight had tried to fly over the iron wall, but to no avail. As soon as reached a reasonable height, they tired from the lack of oxygen and were soon left unconscious. Months passed after the realization that their freedom was out of sight. However, there would be a gathering in the town center. The meeting was called by one man that spread all across the sectors. When people gathered they saw who had called them forth. It was same man that was found on the day of the fire. His bright, blond hair made him easily recognizable. As soon as the news spread, people quickly flooded the city square. When he determined there were enough people, he began to speak. His voice was loud and reached the crowd at the far back clearly. He talked and talked about their oppression and about the way they're living. He asked if anyone was happy with their living conditions. No one answered positively. His speech brought life back to the eyes of the defeated citizens. He encouraged them to fight. There was one thing that all of them had forgotten that he reminded them off. If you're freedom is forcefully taken away, forcefully take it back. Soon enough, a war began all across the country. The "blue-blooded" people fought against the "red-blooded" people. With magic in their arsenal, their victory was nearly assured. However, things quickly turned sour when the might of the military poured down on them like thunder in a storm. Thousands, nearly millions, of people were slain in this civil war. A war they continued to fight for their freedom. The man who had been crowned as leader of the "blue-blooded" citizens called a retreat. The make-shift soldiers knew they stood no chance against the trained military force that threatened their lives. Even their homes were no longer safe. They had nowhere above ground to retreat to. Quickly, the war ended with the defeated of the magic users. The entire population was captured. With the world watching, a mass genocide would be the last thing on their list, so instead they sent them underground where they would start their new life. Of course, some magic users had been granted the privilege of living on the aboveground. The government had forced thousands of these people to create a barrier that prevented any escape. Soon enough, anyone who bore the symbol of the blue liquid in their veins vanished from the aboveground except for a select few.


	2. Magictale: Chapter 1: The Child

Over 200 years have passed since the last account of a "blue-blooded" person within the world. The memories of the civil war that took place between the two slowly diminished into a fog of forgetfulness. Within the third generation after their victory, the idea of magic all together turned from a fact within history into a rumor that would be spread among peers in school. Present day showed no signs of magic or anything about a war that ravaged and shook the entire world. However, only a select few would be allowed to keep the memory. Those few would either be government officials or magic users themselves. Of course, there were a few that remained on the surface to keep barrier intact.

A certain child sat alone in the back of the class. The chattering in the classroom was cut off from his day-dreaming. His eyes seemed to always focus on a mountain in the distance. Everyone knew the mountain. It was named Mtn. Ebott. A famous legend had sprouted from the giant chunk of earth. It was said that whoever wandered into the forest would never come back. So far, it had lived up to its expectations. A total of twenty-three people have gone missing over the past few years. Search parties were sent out to find these victims, but they always ended up empty-handed. With that, it was labeled as cursed and was fenced off to the public. The other students began to slowly walk out of the classroom. School had ended nearly thirty minutes ago, but this particular child had no intentions of going home. He would stay in the room as long as he could until a school staff member forced him out. Instead of staying, he decided to willingly leave. The thought of going home lingered in the back of his mind, but his legs lead him somewhere else. It lead him to the fence that sealed off the mountain to the public. It had barbed wire welded to the top of the fence to prevent any climbing. He wrapped his fingers around the steel working and stared off into the depths of the forest. At most, he could only see a few trees and a lush amount of grass. A thought of freedom lingered in the back of his mind. It was so easy. All that was needed was to dig a hole under the fence or find a bolt cutter to cut a small hole just big enough for him. His hand quickly let go of the fence and he turned his back to the forest. Every Time his eyes gazed upon the mountain, the urge to run grew stronger. It was as if something was compelling him to run free. It felt...magical.

The front door slowly creaked open and the child was immediately hit with a wave of violent shouts and excessive cursing. His parents were at it again. They argued at almost every chance they got. Most of the time, it would just end with one of them leaving and returning to apologize in the morning. However, it seemed different tonight. Things sounded more intense than usual. The topic wasn't something like beer in the fridge or about the stress of work. No, this time they were arguing about divorce. As he quietly tip-toed up the stairs, he could hear his name be shouted on both sides. He stopped walking and stood still on the stairs. He pressed his head against the wall as a single tear slid down his cheek. They were talking about who would claim legal rights over him. And it seemed as though they _both_ didn't want him. He could hear how his parents talked about him, how he was a hassle to deal with or how he would only be a waste of money. Suddenly, the shouts stopped. It felt much too quiet for the average Friday night. He started to walk up the stairs with enough silence to not get noticed. The front door slammed shut. He jumped from the sudden noise and barely managed to catch himself on the handrail before falling over. Judging from the sound of a beer can opening in the living room, his mother had left. She often ended the conversation by leaving the house and going to her closest friend's house, which wasn't too far off. He slipped into his room and laid on his bed in the darkness. His room was cool and relaxing. It helped to block off all the shouting, but even that ended shortly. If anything, tonight was a good night. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep slumber.


	3. Magictale: Chapter 2: The Fallen

_Tap, Tap, Tap…_ The sound of raindrops hitting against his window woke him from his slumber. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before looking at the digital clock that sat on the desk next to him. It read 9:46 A.M. He got out of bed and put on his pair of light blue slippers. He moved the curtains to look out the window. It was raining heavily, as it usually does when it rains in their area. It poured down so fast and hard that it nearly resembled a hailstorm. He slipped out of the clothes he wore to bed and put on a fresh pair of clothes. He wore blue cargo shorts and a blue sweater with two purple stripes going horizontally across in the middle. Before his hand touched the doorknob, there was the sound of something breaking downstairs, most likely glass, and more arguing. It seemed as though they were still on the topic of who would claim rights over him. His hand shook as he listened in on the conversation. Obviously, they didn't care if he overheard them or not, considering they were shouting loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

Instead of heading down to make breakfast, he decided to just stay in his room and stare at the ceiling. The "conversation" his parents were having lasted for another three hours until it came to a sudden silence. He sat up and looked at his door. There was something wrong. They don't usually stop arguing until well into the afternoon. He got out of bed and opened his door just a crack.

"We should put him up for adoption.." he heard his mother say from the living room. His heart nearly stopped. Adoption was something that crossed his mind, but he never actually thought they'd consider it.

"That might be the best option here. Neither of us want to take care of him." his father said in a hushed voice. Frisk held his heart in his throat. He suddenly became dizzy and fell down to his knees. It felt as though his world was collapsing around him. He was a good child, he knew that. He always listened and did what he was told. He was kind and gentle. He was...he was confused why they hated him so much. He even noticed this at the school. People tried to avoid him as much as possible, as if he were some sort of disease. When he confronted a group of kids about it, they said that he had a strange vibe around him. At first, the only thing that came to his mind was confusion, but he slowly grew to accept it.

Frisk shut his door quietly and slid down the wooden frame. He slid his knees to his chest and pushed his forehead against his knees. He suddenly shot his head up and looked down at his hands. He didn't want to be a burden anymore. His body forced itself up to his feet and he slipped on a pair of sneakers. The tension in the air around him was overwhelming. The usually happy child was filled with mounds upon mounds of depression. It were as if a switch had been flicked. He walked out of his room and down the stairs.

His mother happened to catch a glimpse of Frisk and said, "Oh, Frisk there's-" but before she could finish, Frisk opened the front door and slipped outside into the pouring rain. He didn't care if the rain soaked clothes. The door behind him opened and there stood both mother and father. They both shouted his name, but they were drowned out by the noise of the rain violently assaulting the Earth. Suddenly, Frisk began to run. He ran down the road in the pouring rain. He ran and ran with no particular place to go. After several minutes, he stopped at a fence. A sign to the left of him said "Mt. Ebott". There was a small hole under the sign. It was conveniently small enough accommodate his small frame. Added with the slickness from the rain, he slipped underneath the fence with ease.

The pouring rain had seemed to completely vanish. Due to the thick, unnurtured trees, they created an overhang that shielded any creature under. Even from the lack of rain touching the ground, it still seemed fresh and alive. Frisk didn't pay much attention to this as he continued onward with his journey. Everything seemed to pause in this place. It were as if the word 'time' held no power in this vacinity. A strange feeling, almost like an aura, seemed to linger wherever he went. North, South, East, West, it barely stayed alive in the background as if it were trying to be unnoticed yet noticed at the same time. As his feet lead him deeper and deeper into the dense forest, all of his worries began to vanish. Everything that troubled him were slowly beginning to fade away with the darkness around him, almost like they were being dragged away from unseen hands in the shadows. He walked for what felt like hours, but couldn't find anything worthwhile. All he could observe was the greenery around and that proved to be a challenge because of the thick coat of darkness that surrounded him.

As he placed his right foot forward, the front half made contact with nothing. Quickly, he shot his foot back to avoid falling. The sudden imbalance caused him to stumble backwards which lead to his left foot tripping over an uproot. He fell back and hit the base of the tree that had the uproot. After several moments of being dazed from the fall, he finally regained his sight and look at what had misplaced his step. His eyes slowly widened as they rested their gaze upon a massive hole in the Earth. He quickly stood to his feet and edged his way towards the gaping mass. Upon approaching the edge, he felt it was obligatory to stare down the abyss, and he did just that. There was no sign of what lied at the bottom, just pure darkness. It almost felt poetic, really. He felt as though he were looking at his own reflection. Behind all of the smiles and laughs was a darkness that plunged him into despair, or that's how he saw it. Either way, Frisk felt as though he was staring directly into his soul. He looked away from the portal and looked down at his hands. The urge to jump felt…..overwhelming. Frisk walked back over to the tree that had tripped him and he sat at the base of it again. He contemplated the action heavily. _It would be so easy_ , he thought, _...easy to end it all right now_. His gazed was fixed on the chunk of missing dirt and he drew his knees up to his chest. He stood to his feet and starting walking. His body moved on its own. Within seconds, the front half of his feet were hanging off the edge of the hole. He extended both arms out to his sides and closed his eyes.

"I'll either live...and save the trapped people or….I'll….I'll die.." he spoke softly, barely above a whisper. A single tear rolled down the side of his cheek as he pushed his weight forward….and fell.


	4. Magictale: Chapter 3: A New World

The rush of air bombarded his body as he continued to fall. In a single moment during the fall, all of his memories invaded his mind. Every past experience clouded his thoughts. Tears were freely pouring out now as good and bad memories resurfaced. The light behind him slowly faded away. Frisk knew he was falling to a place where no light could reach, where no normal person can touch, and no voice can he heard. Slowly, everything began to disperse around him. The light, his thoughts, even the darkness itself seemed to disappear. The rush of air vanished. He felt as though he was laying in a void...nothing. A place where nothing is created nor destroyed. A place where not even the darkness can touch. It was simply nothing. Suddenly, he felt a thin hand wrap around his left shoulder. The fingers felt incredibly long considering they managed to nearly reach down to his chest. He felt a shiver run down his back and the soft air press against the back of his neck as if someone were breathing down on him.

"Ah yes…" a mysterious voiced echoed behind him. "You are...special. Maybe….maybe you'll be the one.." his voice trailed off in the distance.

Suddenly, a white mask appeared in front of him. Both eyes were pitch black and it bore a thin, broken smile. The right eye held a crack that extended upwards to the edge while the left mask held one that was going downwards. At first glance, the figure struck a massive deal of fear into the child. Everything went silent as the two stared at one another. Frisk could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. For the first time, he truly felt afraid. For an unknown reason, Frisk felt an immeasurable amount of pressure push down and against his body. It were as if the air was trying to crush his body. The mask slowly became engulfed in a dark mist. Within seconds, it vanished and so did the weight pushing down on him. Then there was silence. His vision vanished entirely, leaving a mass of darkness all around him.

Frisk's body felt heavy. He curled his fingers and felt the dirt underneath his fingertips. Something soft was pressing against his entire body. Slowly, Frisk opened his sore and heavy eyes. At first, everything was blurred and he only saw a mass of yellow, green, and purple. He bent his stiff and rigid arms, forcing himself into a sitting position. As time passed, his vision became more defined. The mass of yellow were flowers, a flower bed to be exact. Somehow, this plethora of flowers had absorbed enough of the impact to keep his body intact. The patches of green around him were simply patches of grass growing between the cracks of the purple stone. His eyes scanned all around him. It look as if he were in some kind of ruin. There were decaying pillars around him and one entrance in front of him. His eyes darted upwards, but only saw black. There was no speck of light from the surface, just the darkness of the underground. Frisk somehow managed to stand, despite his legs moaning in disapproval. A single doorway stood just a few feet away. It eminated a soft glow of light. Slowly and painfully, Frisk inched his way towards the doorway. Each step sent a new wave of pain that raced through his body, his feet the starting line and his head the finish line. His body hunched over slightly as he continued to walk. However, it felt as though he wasn't reaching the door at all, but as if it were moving further and further away. Everything began to blur around him. The pain began to subside, but the length of time between steps grew longer. He seemed to move less with each step taken. Just as his left foot fully hit the ground, his leg had given up the burden of carrying his weight. Frisk fell forward with a quiet thud. His cheek rested on the cold stone. Everything was going black again. The searing pain that enveloped him had morphed into a faint numbness. His eyes closed once more and his conscious took a deserved rest for being able to stay awake that long.

Once again, darkness surrounding his body. However, it felt suffocating compared to the last. He found it hard to breath as if something were weighing down on his chest. Frisk looked around to see if there was anything identifiable, and we wished he hadn't. Directly in front of him, about 10 feet away, stood a lean and tall man in a black suit. Under the suit was a grey turtleneck. He wore the double cracked mask he'd seen before. His short, black hair was unruly and unkempt. Slowly, he raised both hands and spread out all of his fingers. They looked rather long and boney.

For a second, Frisk thought he _was_ looking at bones, but realized there was a thin layer of skin covering the fingers. The figure in front of him began to bend and turn him fingers around ever-so-slowly. At first, Frisk had no idea what he was doing, but it quickly struck him. _Sign language!_ Frisk thought to himself. After knowing this, he began to pay close attention to his fingers. Since Frisk rarely talks, he ended up learning sign language due to people trying to communicate with him through it. Frisk stared at the man's hands intently. He could read out 'G..A..S..T..E..R', but the distance between the pair made it incredibly difficult to read anything else.

When the man out his hands down, Frisk opened his mouth to say that he didn't quite catch everything. However, no noise came out. He repeatedly tried to speak and yell, but there was nothing, just utter silence. The man raised up his right hand and extended his index finger. Slowly, he waved it back and forth as if saying talking wasn't allowed, or in stricter terms, forbidden. Frisk compiled and closed his mouth. His eyes widened and he now noticed the massive holes in the center of the man's hand. It looked as though his palms were removed. What happened next shook Frisk to his core. It took him completely unaware. The mask's wide grin seemed to grow larger with its lips parting even more. It was then that Frisk realized that wasn't a mask, but the man's face itself.

Frisk regained consciousness after spending several more minutes in the endless void. His body felt much too heavy, but he couldn't feel the ground. One part was due to the immense numbness that took over the vacancy of the absent pain. His arm and legs dangled below him. Finally, he felt two hands holding him up and carrying him. One was wrapped around the back if his knees while the other was around the midsection of his back. Frisk tried to open his eyes, but they felt much too heavy. His lips parted just slightly, but no noise came out, just a sharp exhale. His lips would move as if he were talking, but there was no voice to be heard. The only thing audible was the sound of this person's footsteps. Frisk managed to lift his dangling arm and wrap it around his chest. He then turned towards the person and pushed himself closer to them. He felt an unimaginably comforting warmth embrace him.

"Warm…" the child muttered ever-so-softly. It was barely above a whisper. He could feel the arms that held him up push him closer into their embrace. Just from how their body felt, Frisk immediately knew it was a female that was carrying him.

Frisk opened one eye slowly and looked up at the person who was carrying him. His gaze was met by a beautiful woman with a dark tan and silver hair flowing down her back. Her silver locks seemed to almost glisten in the darkness of the underground. She glanced down at Frisk, which caused him to quickly shut the one eye he had open.

He heard her giggle quietly and say, "Are you awake, young one?"

"Y-yes.." Frisk replied in a meek voice. He was afraid of what this person would, or could, do to him. Every bone in his body was aching with pain beyond your imagination. His muscles were so tensed that moving them would most likely tear the fibers apart. In a sense, Frisk could be compared to a sandbag.

"Do not be afraid, young one," she spoke in an soft and gentle voice, "because I have no intentions of harming you."

When she said that, something inside of Frisk had vanished entirely. Was it fear? Anxiety? Whatever it was, it left Frisk in a state of peace. He felt like he could trust her words even though he had no idea who she was. The woman continued to walk for what seemed like hours, but realistically was only half an hour, before Frisk could feel a sudden change in the air. He opened one eye and looked forward only to see a massive and aged oak tree. The bark seemed so withered that a slight breeze could crumble it to dust. The leaves looked as though they were barely attached to branches high above. Yet, considering all of this, it stood tall and strong almost like an unbreakable will. Frisk could feel an intensely strong aura radiating off of the tree.

The woman smiled and said in a soft voice again, "This tree has been here far longer than we were. "How strange is that," she let out a quiet laugh, "a tree growing and prospering underground?"

Frisk couldn't take his eyes off of the massive tree that stood before him. Soon enough, the woman who was carrying him walked around the tree to reveal a neat and groomed front porch of a house. Everything looked as though it had been swept clean just hours ago. He figured that this is where she must live. Soon enough, they were inside. The air smelt rather fresh and lively, almost as if they were still outside. However, just by looking around, everything felt as homey as ever. Frisk felt a sense of belonging in this small home. The woman walked across the living room and down a hallway. She opened a door to a vacant and dark room. Carefully, as to not hurt him, she placed Frisk on the soft bed, which accepted him immediately.

"Be good and rest, my child. I shall return to help with your recovering soon." she said, giving Frisk a small kiss on the forehead and leaving the room.

There was only silence now. Frisk was left in an empty, alone, with only his thoughts and the silence around him. He tried to sit up in the rather comfortable bed, but to no avail. His arms refused to move and his body continued to ache with every attempt. Suddenly, reality crashed down on the young child in a hailstorm. Everything that had happened began to run through his mind all at once. His head grew an unpleasant and painful throb as he tried to rationalize all of the recent events. His thought process suddenly vanished and he began to hear a quiet voice in the back of his head.

" _You're just another failure, aren't you?"_ it whispered quietly in Frisk's ear. " _Don't worry. We're the same, partner."_

Suddenly, every part of Frisk's body began to grow a burning sensation. At first, it was only an annoyance, but within seconds, Frisk felt as though he was pushed into a pool of fire. The searing pain seemed to cover every inch of his body, giving no leeway whatsoever. Frisk found it hard to breath considering each time he did, it felt like a jagged glass shard pierced both lungs. His arms shot up into the air and clasped his head and covered his eyes. Just blinking brought a new wave of this pain.

Frisk's legs began to violently kick as if he were trying to get away from something. His body arced. He let out a scream of pure pain. His voice broke during his scream and his entire body started jerk around intensely. Anything and everything that touched him carried an immense amount of pain with it. His clothes felt like thousands of needles pricking into his body. The blanket felt so heavy that Frisk believed it was suffocating him.

Suddenly, Frisk began to hear a voice, or more appropriately, voices. Each one seemed to whisper directly into both ears. As this new surprise arises, the burning sensation faded entirely. Frisk felt like an icecube now. Everything felt cold to the touch. His arms fell to the side as the voices began to whisper louder and louder.

" _Worthless...Unwanted...Just die...Useless existence…" they whispered._

Over and over again, the voices would repeat those words, which further threw Frisk into a spiral of panic. Tears began to erupt from his eyes and slowly make their way down the sides of his head. Suddenly, the door to his room clicks and opens. The same woman who carried him there peeked past the door and into the room. At first, she just watched. However, within seconds of being able to see the distress of Frisk, she rushed over to the bed and knelt down.

"My child, are you alright? Where does it hurt?" she said in a soft and soothing voice.

To Frisk, her voice seemed to pierce through all the negativity. Frisk could hear her voice above the rest, and for some reason, it brought him a brief moment of relaxation. He could feel the warmth of her hands as they gently squeezed his arms and legs to try and ease his muscles. Combined with healing magic, the woman began to slowly and steadily heal Frisk's wounds. After several moments passed, she managed to heal Frisk's wounds to the point where he could move again.

"I'm sorry, my child. Healing magic is not my specialty, sadly."

As the scattered pain began to subside, Frisk opened his eyes slowly. At first, everything was dark, then he met the woman's eyes. Her sky blue eyes seemed to pierce the darkness and create a sense of relief. A smile grew on his face and his eyes closed again. Frisk had fainted from exhaustion.


	5. Magictale: Chapter 4: The First Step

**Author's Notes**

Ahh, sorry about the lack of updating this little story. I lost my passion for writing for a bit, but sparked its revival recently. Expect more chapters in the future. This is not dead!

Frisk suddenly woke in a panic. Despite how hot it was under the cover of the blanket, Frisk had broken out into a cold sweat. His body felt tense, but not in a painful sense. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but it was too dark to see anything. His eyes hadn't adjusted to how dark it was yet. His breathing became erratic and quick. The thumping in his chest sounded so loud in his ears. His hand gripped the front of his sweater. His heartbeat felt so heavy against his chest.

He suddenly felt a hand grip his right shoulder tightly. Quickly, he turned his head to find that there was nothing there. He began to look left and right, but he was the only person alive in the room. Soon enough, the panic state Frisk was in started to die down. His breathing became more even and slowed. His heartbeat calmed itself as well, beating at a steady, soft pace.

Frisk's vision finally became clear in the darkness. The room looked rather average. It resembled his room in a sense. There was a closet on the wall to his right and a desk to his left. There wasn't anything on the desk or in the closet, however. There was a wooden door that stood in front of him, closed. Frisk looked down at his hands, but became quickly confused. He saw a large kitchen knife rest against his hands. The cool steel felt so refreshing against the child's fingertips. As his fingers approached the tip, he could feel a warm liquid slide down his index finger and drip onto the bed.

He couldn't really tell what the liquid was made out of considering how dark was, nor did it emit any type of scent. When Frisk closed his eyes and reopened them moments later, he was now standing in a dimly lit hallway. The walls were about five feet away from each other and made out of purple stone. He looked ahead and dropped the knife he was still holding onto to.

There was a woman laying on the ground in pool of a crimson liquid that only grew larger and larger. He tried to approach her, but the shock was too intense for his body to move. Suddenly, her body began to glow slightly. After several moments of glowing, her body began to slowly disintegrate into a pile of dust. No, that's not quite right. It dissolved into a pile of ash.

Frisk could feel the same warm liquid slide down his fingertips. He fell to his knees and bent over, nearly vomiting. However, instead of spewing out his insides, the corners of his lips formed a small smile. He even heard himself chuckle quietly.

His body jerked violently in the bed. His breathing became more erratic than before, but could he be blamed from what he just saw? The blanket was used to wipe the cold sweat off of his forehead and he soon got out of bed. Frisk noticed that there was a rather sweet aroma in the air. He looked at the ground saw a medium sized slice of pie. He couldn't really tell what it was, but the smell hinted towards apple and cinnamon.

He picked up the small plate it sat on and stared at the door that stood in front of him. Slowly, Frisk reached out his hand grasped the doorknob tightly. The metal handle felt cold in his hands, but the grip never swayed. With a rising anticipation, or was it anxiety, Frisk turned the handle and opened the door. There was an immediate gust of warm wind that overflowed the room. He peered his head out of the door and looked both ways. His left side continued the hallway and lead to a dead end. His right led into a semi-lit room where the warmth seemed to radiate from.

Quietly, he walked out of his room and closed the door without a squeak. Frisk walked down the hall that lead into another room. He wanted to know where he was and who had helped him. He owed them at least a thank you for both nursing him and the pie, which was left untouched because he didn't have any utensils to use. With trembling footsteps, Frisk slowly approached the growing light that emitted from the room ahead. As each step brought him closer to the room, there was a very noticeable warmth that encased his body. Frisk suddenly heard a loud crack and pop. The loud pop had caused his small frame to jump ever so slightly and press against the wall. Immediately, there were several more smaller crackling. Calming down, Frisk rationalized that what he was hearing was a most likely a fire burning in a fire place.

Frisk exhaled the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. With newfound courage, he pushed his body off the wall and walked closer to the room. Finally, the corner of the hall was passed and what he saw was just an average living room. There was a small burning fireplace. On the right of the fireplace was a tall bookshelf filled with many huge books. The room itself was dimly light and the details of the other half of the room across the fireplace was too dim to make out. Frisk suddenly became apparent to the subtle sound of an old wooden rocking chair swaying back and forth.

His gaze was placed on the chair and saw the figure that was sitting on the chair. Her snow white hair extended down her back and only half of her face was visible because of the fireplace. She had a rather large book on her lap and reading glasses on. Quietly, Frisk stepped closer to the woman, but the floorboard broke the silence with a loud squeak. The woman slowly lifted her head from the book and locked eyes with Frisk.

There was a lump in his throat. For some unknown reason, Frisk felt something he rarely feels. He felt an unknown anger towards this woman. Vision began to flash across his eyes. The sudden brightness of what looked to be a fireball hurling towards him, but disappearing before it makes contact. The woman surrounded by these little balls of flame. His heart began to thump loudly against his chest, the noise deafening to the child. A single cold sweat rolled down his cheek. Frisk opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Suddenly, she struck a small smile towards him. This had caught Frisk completely off guard. His unknowingly tense muscles became more slack and his heartbeat slowly calmed itself.

"Oh, hello there, child. I didn't know you were awake." she spoke with an everlasting softness in her voice. For some reason, Frisk had a hint that she is, or was, a mother. He could tell from how she looked at him.

"H-h-hello.." Frisk spoke with an awkward quietness in his voice.

She quietly closed her book and set it on a small desk that sat next to the rocking chair. For a few moments, there was a still silence that haunted the room. The only noise that broke between the two was the subtle crack and pop of the firewood. After several moments pass, the woman stands from her chair and gently wipes off any dust that had gotten on her purple dress.

"I am Toriel, the caretaker of the ruins, my child." she gave another smile and held out her hand, "What is your name?"

"F-fri...F-frisk." he mumbled under his breath.

"Frisk. What a wonderful name. Oh! I see that you've received my little gift for you. I apologize for not giving you any utensils to use." she quickly walked into another dimly lit room and returned holding a fork.

"I'm not..hungry, miss Toriel."

"Oh! Then I'll gladly wrap it away for you. And please, call me Toriel, my child. Miss Toriel makes me sound much older than I am." she let out a warm laugh that seemed to fill Frisk with warmth.

She took the plate from Frisk and returned to what he assumed was the kitchen. In a manner of seconds, she returned to the empty handed. Frisk hadn't noticed her return, but had noticed the chain blocking off the other half of the living room. Now that he was closer, he could see a staircase heading downwards.

Suddenly, Toriel stepped in front of Frisk and gently placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Child, you mustn't think of going into the basement."

Frisk looked up at her in slight confusion, but nodded anyways. Her saying that had only made his desire to see what was under the house all that much stronger. He was guided back to the wooden rocking chair she sat in previously. She sat down in the chair and let out a soft sigh.

"T-toriel…"

"Yes, my child?"

"What's...what's in the basement?"

For a brief moment, there was only silence. Toriel's expression changed slightly to one that held hesitation. However, her expressions quickly changed and she returned to the warm smile as before.

"Why..it's just a storage room, yes, a storage room. There's nothing down there a child would enjoy." she spoke calmly and collectively with this deceitful lie.

Frisk could sense the unevenness she held in her eyes. He knew that she wasn't speaking the truth about what was in the basement and he wondered why. Was there something so horrid underneath that she couldn't speak of? This only caused the child's curiosity to grow stronger. Alas, Frisk didn't wish to push the topic any further considering it pains his temporary caretaker to even think about it. He decided that when she leaves for bed, he'll go past the chain that separates the room and delve into the depths of the basement.

Frisk didn't decide this on any ill intent, but purely on the gnawing wonder of what he would encounter. Since he was in a new environment, he figured that a little exploration wouldn't be all too terrible.

Just as Frisk was about to speak, Toriel quietly said, "My child, would you like to hear some interesting snail facts?"

Frisk was slightly taken aback from this. He hadn't expected her to ask him about such a request. He gladly accepted her offer, which caused a small smile on both faces.

"Did you know..snails are really terrible shoes?" she let out a quiet, warm-filled giggle.

Frisk was left a little stunned. He definitely didn't expect her to say that. Despite the lameness of the fact, he couldn't help but giggle with her. For a few brief moments, the living room was filled with the two giggles of two innocent souls. When the little cheerful sounds died down, Toriel would say another snail fact, which would entice another fit of laughter. This went on for roughly an hour or so before the book of terrible snail facts closed.

"My child, it is late out and we mustn't stay up too late. Come, let's head off to bed." she stood from her rocking chair and held out of her hand to him. With a smile on his face, he took her hand.

She led the child down the hall and opened the door to his room. It seemed so normal to Frisk, almost as if he'd been living here all his life. Almost as if he belonged here. He walked into the room and heard the door shut behind. He quietly walked over to the door and pressed his ear against it. The soft footsteps slowly died as Toriel walked away from the door. When Frisk couldn't hear her steps anymore, he opened the door and quietly shut it behind him. He then proceeded to tiptoe towards the living room, each step much more careful than necessary.

Frisk stealthily reached the chain that separated the rest of the room from the stairway down. The chain was much too high to step over, so Frisk had dropped down to his chest and crawled under the chain. It only took a mere few seconds, but he managed his way across.

The descending stairway was covered in darkness. Frisk could only see the third step before everything else was cut off. He placed his hand against the cool stone wall and took the first step down. He took the second step, then the third. Frisk glided his hand across the stone wall and took a choking gulp before taking the next step. He made contact with the stairs. It took a few minutes, but Frisk's eyes had adjusted themselves to the darkness, with made it easier to see the stairs in front of him. Suddenly, there was a slow, but cold gust of wind that passed by him. It sent shivers down his spine and temporarily halted his progress.

After several moments to regain his warmth, Frisk continued down. After minutes of walking, he finally reached a solid footing. He wasn't descending anymore. There was one long hallway across that was dimly lit by torches. Down the hall, Frisk could see Toriel, or more exact, Toriel's back. He quietly walked towards her, but stopped when she turned to face, a look of grief on her face. No, it was more than grief, but an expression that held onto the chains of guilt, self-guilt.

Frisk could see it. He could see her soul being weighed down by the chains of her past. He didn't what was so tragic in her past that it was still affecting her, but it was clearly visible. Her eyes were filled with restlessness and despair. She let out a chilling breath and held out her hand towards the staircase,

"My child," she spoke with a more assertive tone, "please, go back upstairs and forget about this."

Frisk refused to take a step back and noticed a massive stone door behind Toriel at the other end of the hallway.

"I..I want.." Frisk couldn't find the words, or more accurately, he choked on his words. Despite everything, Frisk wanted to leave. He knew that he couldn't stay here. He knew he had to return home despite all of the negatives. Frisk knew he belonged on the surface, and so did these people who lived underground.

"I want to go back to the surface." Frisk spoke with confidence in his voice and gave Toriel a stare that showed his resistance.

"The outside is..dangerous. The people past those doors are not as kind as I am. Please, for your own safety, leave and forget this hall. We can live together as a happy family of two. We can-" but she was cut off from the determined stare Frisk gave her.

"If that's how it will be, then show me, my child, that you are fit to survive past those doors."

Suddenly, the walls of the hall were engulfed in a brilliant flame. The flame from the wall stretched out and created a ring of fire around him and Toriel. The flames roared loudly as Toriel stood in the center of a ring of fireballs with a pitch black center. Her eyes blazed with the fires of life. Frisk stood with confidence and stared back with his own blaze of life. His first challenge of many he was bound to face.


	6. Magictale: Chapter 5: A Past Mother

In a lone hall, there stood only two. The dim light provided by the scarce torches were overtaken by the overpowering brightness of the flames. A corridor filled with the burning regrets of a single woman surrounded the pair. Despite the erratically dancing fire on all sides, there was no heat emitting off the flames. Frisk could still feel the cold breeze dance around his body. In front of him, there stood a single obstacle that prevented his escape of the rundown ruins.

Toriel couldn't cast her eyes upon Frisk. Each time she did, it reminded her of someone she once knew...someone who she still loves. She cut her eyes away from the light and took a deep breath. If Frisk were to leave the ruins, then Toriel needed to confirm that his will to leave and live were both strong enough.

The first ball of fire was thrown towards the child. The sudden burst of flame surprised Frisk, but his body had moved on its own. Quickly, Frisk moved to the side and barely avoided the flame. He could visibly see the scorch mark it left on the ground and when he looked at Toriel, even more flames were being sent. Frisk felt his feet dance around the floor and avoid each lethal strike.

As Frisk took another step to the side, the sole of his foot had slipped on a small pile of loose stone, which caused his body to soar to the ground. After he regained his senses, Frisk suddenly felt something hot, something immensely hot. The burning sensation rapidly grew stronger and stronger until he couldn't bear it any longer. The soul-piercing shriek filled the hall as Frisk slammed his head into the ground and covered the left half of his face. Both hands were placed upon the burn mark that Toriel had created on his face as Frisk screamed in writhing agony.

Toriel quickly placed both hands over her mouth and widened her eyes as the realization of what she had done began to quickly materialize. She wanted to help, but that would defeat the whole purpose of what she was trying to accomplish. Toriel reached out a hand towards the child. She tried to hold him, to comfort him. However, just as she peered through the gaps between her fingers, she saw Frisk slowly rise to his feet. He had a hand over the burn mark across his face and tears streaming down his cheeks, but there was also something else hidden behind his eyes. She knew that what she saw was his life, or more accurately, his will to live.

Frisk couldn't just ignore the pain, but he knew that there were going to be must greater pains ahead. If something as menial as this was going to stop him, then he had no chance of returning to the surface, or of saving these people. He looked up at Toriel with a glint of confidence in his eyes. Her composure had returned to the cold, heartless judge. She hid her emotions behind a mask of stone. She rose both arms and swiftly brought them down in front of her. The sparkling dance of flames flew all around the room. Each movement seemed random and ecstatic, but Toriel had complete control over each and every ball of flame that was hurled towards Frisk.

With one eye out of commision for the time being, Frisk had only half of his vision to work with to follow each glimmer of flame. Each ball was moving so fast that it felt almost impossible to follow each one and predict its path. They felt so random with each movement. The magical flames twirled all around the air and was rapidly closing the gap between it and Frisk. Suddenly, there was movement. Frisk had felt his weight shift to the right side of his body. He hadn't know why, but when the sudden realization that he was moving hit him, there was a loud whoosh noise in the left ear. He had unconsciously moved out of the of the imminent danger.

Because of this, Frisk realized something important. This isn't a fake skirmish, but a fight of life or death. He couldn't predict something he'd never seen before, so he realized he needed to rely on something more primal, more suited for this: instinct. Frisk let his body move on its own, and it provided rewarding results. His left foot had slip even further to the left wall, which brought Frisk close to the ground and prevented two fireballs from making contact with his head. However, it seemed as though with each one that missed, two more approached him.

His eyes widened as everything began to slow. Everything seemed to halt to a freeze as Frisk was crouched inches away from a fireball. It stood so close to his face that he could feel the condensed heat from its center. There was nothing he could do. The ball of flame was going to claim its reward. His head was going to burn off. Suddenly, Frisk felt a hand on his shoulder. The hand radiated off a coldness he'd never felt before. It felt light, yet heavy at the same time. He turned to look at who was grasping his shoulder and saw a tall man cloaked in a black suit. The same broken smile peered down at him. Frisk couldn't help but feel like an insect in this person's presence. The strange figure tilted its' head to the right and pushed a finger up against the broken smile.

 _I can't have you dying here… At least...not yet._ He never actually spoke, but with his free hand, Frisk could understand the sign language he made. Even if he couldn't, each motion created a letter seeped in a dark purple ooze. The letters hovered in the air above the figures hand and shook very subtly. Within seconds of a complete word forming, the letters broke down and evaporated into nothing. Before Frisk could say anything, his body was violently pushed down to the ground. His eyes recoiled shut, but he could hear the fireball swish past his body above him. The same fireball that nearly killed him.

Quickly, he jumped up to his feet and stumbled on the landing. Toriel was relentless in her assault. As soon as the child stood, she had already sent out four more balls of flame towards him. No matter how many she threw out, none hit their target.

"Why do you fight so much?" she suddenly spoke as another wave of flame cascaded over her vision.

There was no answer. Frisk only continued to dodge each flame with struggle. The exhaustion began to slowly creep up on him.

"It's dangerous out there. You'll die for sure. Asgore...Asgore will kill you.." she said again.

Even though the sound of the crackling fire filled the air, he could hear her voice clearly. He could hear the emotions she tried to hide behind a wall of stone.

"Y-you could live here...with me. We could be a happy family."

The flames began to move more sporadic. They took different routes now and occurred at a more irregular pattern. Before, Frisk would have to dodge two or three at a time, but now they came in one by one, which proved to be more difficult. His body was in constant motion with no breaks in between.

"Why...why must you leave me...again?" she spoke just barely above a whisper.

Frisk could hear the sudden eruption of despair she attempted to hide. However, he was too occupied moving his body left, right, up, and down. Suddenly, Frisk's foot slipped from all the sweat that was on the ground. He fell back and landed on his butt. Just as he opened his eyes and look forward, there were four balls of flame heading towards him. They each took a separate path and approached from all directions. If he jerked his body to either side, he would end up slamming his body into a wall of flame.

Frisk closed his eyes and gripped the chest of his sweater. Suddenly, he heard the _whoosh!_ of the flames burning out. The piercing light had faded back into a dim nothingness. The flames had vanished. Slowly, Frisk opened his eye. Toriel had finally cracked. The stone composure she had had broken down to reveal how she truly felt.

Frisk knew that she had broken down because of him. He was the one who wanted to leave. Slowly, he stood. Slowly, he walked towards her. Slowly, he looked around and saw scorch marks litter the cool stone floor. The echo of his footsteps seemed to match the quiet sobbing at the other end of the hallway. Frisk stood inches away from Toriel now.

He stood in silence and watched. Frisk could feel the pounding of his heart and the tears welling up. Even though it was short, she did take great care of him, despite what had happened just a few moments ago. Frisk reached out a hand towards her, but stopped when something surreal happened. Below his hand were two large buttons that seemed to hover above her head. Each button was rectangular and transparent except for an orange border and text. One said 'SPARE' while the other said 'KILL'.

Time seemed to freeze as these sole options blocked the path between him and Toriel. His hand hovered in between both buttons, an equal distance. He turned his head around to see if there was some kind of outside interference. There was nothing. He was alone and knew that one decision had to be chosen. Frisk gritted his teeth together and felt his hand move towards the 'KILL' button. The rage swelled up inside. She had tried to kill him, after all. He had a burn mark on the left side of his face to prove this as well.

As his hand slowly approached the button, everything in his vision began to distort. The sleeve of his sweater seemed to almost glitch into a different color. It rapidly switched from its original blue to a lime-green. His opened hand would morph into a fist, or more accurately, a clenched fist that held onto something as if his life depended on it. Since everything was switching so fast, he couldn't tell what was being held, but it felt light. The handle felt like wood and each shift held a glimmer of light that seemed to be reflecting off of something. Finally, the reshaping materialized for a full five seconds.

Frisk stopped all motion and just stared at the new picture. It only lasted for a brief moment, but it was enough to shake him to his core. Once the illusion subsided, Frisk shot his arm back to his chest so violently that he fell onto his back. His right hand wriggled so erratically that it almost looked as if was in an unending agony. He began to violently bat at his right hand and chest. Frisk was trying to wipe off something that didn't exist.

It only took a few seconds for Frisk to realize whatever he was trying to wipe off didn't exist. His chest heaved and rose slowly, but deeply. Frisk slowly sat up and and pulled his legs up to his chest. His arms wrapped around his legs and there stood only silence. His eyes were widen and freely streamed tears down his cheeks. His mind continued to replay the scene that he saw just minutes ago.

The sound of someone walking became louder and more apparent behind Frisk. He didn't bother to see who was behind him. The echo of footsteps stopped abruptly. Frisk slightly turned his head and peered at whoever was behind him. He expected the tall, cloaked figure, but instead saw a person. A boy who looked slightly older than him. Frisk saw that he wore a baggy lime-green sweater with a large and yellow horizontal stripe across the chest.

"W-who...ar-"

"Chara. My name's Chara, you little runt." he spoke as if he was annoyed.

Frisk just nodded and stared at the two buttons that continued to hover above Toriel's crouched figure.

"So, which one are you gonna choose?"

The sudden realization that he still held the fate of Toriel finally hit Frisk and snapped him out of his daze. His head slowly rose up and peered at the two choices. Frisk knew which one he would choose. Slowly, he stood to his feet. The sudden weight on his legs forced Frisk to wobble slightly, but he managed to gain his footing. He stretched out his hand and pushed it against the 'SPARE' button. He heard the person behind him sigh, almost as if he were annoyed.

"I knew you were going to choose that one. Another boring path, huh?" he spoke again and suddenly vanished.

Frisk paid no attention to him, but moreso to the fact that the moment when he pushed the button, his body leaned forward and he unconsciously wrapped his arms around Toriel. Time began to tick once more and her sobbing returned to only be quickly replaced with a quiet gasp. In a moment of silence, she wrapped her arms around Frisk's back and grasped his shirt tightly.

"A...another one I couldn't save, huh.." she said gently before standing up and taking hold of Frisk's hand.

He could only give her a sweet, innocent smile as she lead him down the pathway she was originally blocking. Frisk noticed that there were no torches down the hall and it felt as though he was being led into a deep void. However, that thought vanished once he saw a light emitting through the crack of a large stone door.

His spine shivered intensely as a chilling breeze blew through the underside of the door and danced around his body. Toriel sensed his sudden chill and shook her head slightly with a soft smile. Once she let go of Frisk's hand, she turned to a box sitting next to the door. It took only a few moments, but Toriel had pulled out a deep blue jacket and a small light blue backpack.

"Take these, my child. I've packed the backpack with food for the journey and this jacket will keep you warm." she spoke barely above a whisper to mask her sadness.

Frisk could sense the desperation in her voice. The desperation teased and tugged at Frisk's heartstrings, but he knew he must leave. Quietly, Toriel placed the jacket on Frisk, which happened to be a perfect fit, and strapped the bag across his back. She leaned down on one knee and gave his cheek a kiss. She then stood up again and opened the door. Immediately, there was a massive gust of chilling wind that blew into the hall. Frisk had to cover his face to avoid the sudden assault.

Toriel stood in front of him and grasped his shoulders lightly. Tears welled in her eyes, but they never broke through. Before he could do anything, she felt her hands place themselves over the burn mark she created. Frisk couldn't hear or see what she was doing, but there was a soft, green glimmer of light that radiated off of her hands. Not before long, the burn on the left side of his face vanished. Frisk could feel his skin heal from her magic. She removed her hands and placed them back on his shoulders.

"My child, I must ask of one request…" there was only silence as she struggled to speak. "Please..do not return.."

With that said, she placed a small, out-dated flip phone in his hand. He stared at the phone for a few moments before walking past the doorway. His feet crunched against the snowy field and when he turned back to look at her, he could see the tears stream down her face as the doors began to close. With a final thud, Frisk was left alone in a world he never knew existed.


	7. Magictale: Chapter 6: A Humerus Meeting

The faint footsteps past the door slowly died down until there were none left. The only thing he could hear was the howling wind and the aching of the dead trees all around him. Frisk turned away from the door and faced the narrow pathway that now stood in front of him. There was no guide for him to follow. With his bag slung over his shoulder and the jacket pressed tightly against his body, Frisk walked down the path.

The sound of his shoes crunching against the snow and twigs underneath seemed to echo in his ears. A sudden breeze swished past Frisk, which had caused an unwanted amount of cold air to bombard his bare face. Quickly, he covered his face with the sleeves of the jacket in an effort for warmth. He wasn't used to such cold temperatures, especially to this degree. Frisk looked up at the darkened, void-like sky. Snow was continuously falling down, but Frisk couldn't find any source. The open sky above him seemed to go on forever.

Frisk suddenly tensed and stopped in his tracks. There was a lingering feeling of unease in the back of his mind, almost as if someone were watching him. The piercing, judgemental gaze he felt had poured a liquor of fear into his glass cup. Quickly, he turned around. The only thing he saw were his own footprints and the snow falling on the white blanket he treaded on.

He let out a sigh of relief and formed a small smile at the corner of his lips. Frisk continued to walk down the path until he came across a strange bridge. It extended over what seemed like an endless fall downwards. On both sides of the bridge held two fence posts as if someone were trying to block off the entrance, but didn't do a very good job at it. Before Frisk could take another step forward and onto the bridge, he heard the familiar crunch of snow behind.

His body froze as the sound slowly grew closer and closer until it came to a stop. Frisk had no idea what to do at this point. Slowly and cautiously, he began to turn around to see whoever, or whatever, was behind him. What stood in front of him was another person. One thing was different, however. The white in his eyes were replaced by a deep, endless black. His cyan pupils had seemed to almost glow as they stared down at him. His short and unruly white hair had most definitely enhanced the pitch black eyes he bore.

Frisk noticed that this man was only a few inches taller than himself, but less equipped for this weather. He wore a plain white shirt and black shorts that a solid white stripe going from the waist to the end. They only went down to his knees, which were buckled slightly. The light blue jacket he wore seemed to do little against this cold and seemed more like an accessory, if anything. This strange figure had an expression of annoyance. His eyes seemed dark and cruel, but his lips were lined horizontally in boredom. It were as if this man knew Frisk on a much deeper level. Suddenly, his right hand began to pull itself out of the jacket pocket. He extended his arm forward slightly and Frisk could only stare at it.

"Don't you know kid...that it's rude to not greet a new friend?" he spoke in a somewhat deep voice.

Frisk slowly, and shakily, extended his arm forward. With trembling fear, Frisk grasped his hand. There was a sudden fart sound that filled the air around the two. Shortly after it ended, Frisk could hear the figure in front of him stifle a laugh, then erupt into laughter. Frisk pulled his arm away and watched this man laugh. The sudden change in atmosphere had left the child in a bit of a shock. Any hostility he felt had vanished and replaced with an unending silliness. The bored lips had formed into a happy and carefree smile. Watching him laugh had irked something inside Frisk, and soon enough, Frisk was laughing as well.

"O-oh geez, kid, that was hilarious! The good ol' whoopy cushion handshake trip never gets old!"

After several moments pass, Frisk had stopped laughing and the figure in front of him wore an all too happy yet lazy smile.

"W-what's...what's your name?" Frisk asked in a rather hushed voice.

"The name's Sans, kiddo. Nice ta' meet ya. Oh, and about the bridge, my bro tried setting up a blockade to prevent anyone from coming in. But as you can see, he didn't do a very _Sans_ -sational job."

Frisk had managed to stifle his rising laughter as Sans let out a quiet chuckle. Frisk turned back around to face the bridge. The length of the structure wasn't spread out too far, only about ten or so feet forward. Frisk turned his head back around to face Sans.

"You go on ahead, kid. I'll catch up with you later. And if you see my bro before I do, tell em' I said hey."

The small child gave Sans a small smile and proceeded to walk across the bridge. The trek across had been easier than it seemed. The bridge itself was extremely sturdy and tight. Before Frisk realized it, he was already across on the other side. As his eyes followed the length back to the other side, he noticed that Sans had wasn't there anymore. Then again, the small snowstorm could have simply masked out his figure. Frisk thought little of this and continued to walk down the narrow, snowy path. As his venture lead him deeper into the forest, the snow storm had begun to loosen. The violent, shudder-inducing breezes came to a stop and the vision ahead of him became much clearer.

Even though the weather seemed to be clear, there was still an infinite amount of snow falling to the ground. Frisk wondered where all of this snow was coming from and how it was getting so deep underground. He became lost in thought about all of this until he noticed Sans standing in front of him. Frisk grew a small smile and ran over to Sans.

"Hm?" Sans turned over to looking at the out-of-breath child and said, "Oh, hey there, kiddo. Didn't see you there."

Frisk could only give Sans a smile as he regained his breath. It took several moments before his breathing came back down to its normal rhythm.

"Hey Sans.." he said quietly, "how did you get here so fast? You were just behind me a few minutes ago."

"Hm? Oh, I used a shortcut. I've lived in these woods for as long as I can remember."

Frisk wanted to say something further, but there was the sudden sound of footsteps off in the distance that was approaching the pair. They both looked over in that direction.

"That must be Papy, my bro. Hey kid, you should hide behind that rock over there. Normal people aren't all too common down here."

Frisk wanted to question what he meant, but decided that it would be best if he followed the instructions. There was a small boulder off to the side that was just big enough for him to hide behind, which he did.

"Nyeh! Sans, what are you doing? You're supposed to be on patrol!" said an unfamiliar voice. He didn't quite sound angry, but more-so slightly annoyed.

"What can I say? I was just feeling _bone_ -tired."

"Sans!" the voice shouted, "Stop with those bone jokes of yours!"

"Sorry bro. It wasn't that _humerus_."

Frisk had to cover his mouth to stifle the rising laughter, but the unfamiliar voice just seemed to shout in annoyance and storm off.

"You can come on out now, kiddo. Papy's gone."

Frisk left the cover of the rock and walk over to Sans as he tried his hardest to calm himself.

"What? Were my jokes that _eggcellent_?"

At this point, Frisk began to laugh quietly and said, "Yeah, they sure do _crack_ me up!"

Sans had joined in on the laughter with his own quiet chuckle. He pushed both hands into his jacket pocket and sat down at the base of a tree.

"Why don't you go on ahead? There's a town up on ahead. Oh, and if you see Papyrus, tell him I said hey."

Before Frisk could say anything, Sans seemed to have already fallen asleep against the tree. Without another word, Frisk left off and walked down the trail.


End file.
